Paisley's Pattern Read online

  “You’ve forgotten my voice? Should I be crushed? Do I really sound different?”

  I’d like nothing better than to restore our relationship by reconnecting with you. “Paisley? Sorry, it’s early.”

  But I have no idea where you’ve run off to. “I almost didn’t answer. Where’s area code 402?”

  “I didn’t think about you being two hours earlier than we are here. Would you believe, Nebraska? It’s a long story. And I’m so sorry. How are you, Rob?”

  Her greeting was far too casual after their last fall-out, but typical of the flighty woman. He pictured easy breezy Paisley in her floppy hats and loose flowing shirts.

  Intense longing twisted through him, settling like a ball of lead in his gut. At least now, he knew where she’d flown off to.

  “Listen, I’ve run across something that involves you. Wasn’t your mom’s name Precious?”

  “Yes. But why would you call about my mother?” He was wide awake now.

  “Way too complicated to go into over the phone, but I believe it involves your family.

  “I don’t have family in Nebraska.”

  “Are you into anything big job-wise right now?”

  “I’m just working on some antique toys that will be Christmas presents.”

  “Sounds interesting. What kind of toys?”

  “A rocking horse that needs runners, a scooter that will be like new with wheels and red paint, and ice skates. I need to grind off the rust and attach new leather straps.” Way too much detail for someone who didn’t care anymore. “I’m trying to make sense of why you’re calling. Surely it’s not to ask what I’m working on.”

  You broke up with me, remember?

  “Ice skates in southern California? That’s different.” It sounded like she crossed a hard-surfaced floor. “Listen, this is important beyond imagination, or I wouldn’t have called. Is there any chance you can fly out here?”

  The weakness to give in to anything Paisley asked started in his stomach and traveled to his knees. His heart threatened to pound out of his chest, simply over the phone connection that brought him the sound of her voice. There was no reason in the whole wide world for his ex-fiancé, the woman who disappeared without giving their relationship a chance, to come out of left field with such an invitation.

  “You’ve got to give me more reason to pack up and leave than a surprise call and plea to travel to God-knows-where.” Did his voice reveal the anger that now rolled through him?

  “It might have to do with your dad. I can’t say more than that without seeing you.” She sucked in a noisy breath. He pictured her tossing her long hair over her shoulder. “But I promise you will be surprised beyond belief.”

  Did she really say his father?

  Rob wiped his suddenly leaking brow. “Are you asking me to drop everything here, and traipse after you, when my family history is what provoked you to make me history in your life?”

  He recalled the way she’d looked when he last saw her. The day she’d handed back his diamond ring and shattered his world. Rob had been so taken aback that he stared at the ring cupped in his hand.

  She’d dipped her head and hid her eyes under the floppy brim of a blushing tan hat. Then her words ripped his world apart. “I know it won’t work. I can’t face a future with you until you take care of the baggage you carry around in your head. You’ve grown into a wonderful, talented man who believes in Jesus. You’ve had strong Biblical men in your life in recent years. I’m sorry you never knew your father, but you now have a heavenly Father who cares for you.”

  Yes, Rob cared about the father he never knew. There would always be something missing as to who Robin Paisley was, and the crazy name he carried around, thanks to his mother. Who named their kid for a bird and a womanly design? She’d never told him what her real last name had been or where she’d come from.

  He’d tried so hard to forget.

  “Rob, are you still there?”

  But Paisley was part of him. When he went to see her two weeks after the ring fiasco, to grovel, she had disappeared. His heart had felt as bleak as desert drought. And his mind had been filled with thoughts darker than ever before.

  “Rob.” The alarm in her voice cleared the cobwebs of the past.

  “I don’t understand why you can’t give me more details.”

  “That’s because it’s something too big for detailing over the phone. You’ll be blown away and I want to see your face. You have to discover this for yourself. It’s huge. You need to come.”

  “All right then. Give me the name of the town and I’ll think about it.”

  “Norfolk. Where I spent some of my growing-up years, remember? Well, I’m here helping out my Aunt Rainbow because she needs me.”

  That’s all he needed, to be around a person with a flower-child name. When would all the peace and love and flower child culture exit his life?

  “Unless you’re a rancher with a plane of your own, you’ll have to fly into one of the cities, Lincoln or Omaha.” Excitement colored Paisley’s words.

  “No promises.” He ended their connection.

  In some respects, he’d envied her carefree attitude, her ability to get by wherever she landed.

  You must heed Paisley’s request.

  The message came to his mind clearly, without conscious prayer.

  I will go with you.

  Curiosity built to a crescendo. He’d head to Nebraska and find out what this was all about. Then if he had any say in the matter, he’d never have to see her again.

  *

  Paisley swung open the front door and jumped back at the sight of raised knuckles.

  “Hey.” Rob stood in front of her, wrist cocked, ready to knock.

  Man, was he a sight for hungry eyes.

  He appraised her from head to toe, no doubt perplexed over her appearance. She wasn’t dressed the way he usually saw her, in light layers of tiered skirt and loose flowing blouse. Today she wore form-fitting yoga pants and an emerald tunic length tailored shirt. Her hair protruded above the back strap of her billed cap.

  She lifted her gaze to meet his penetrating glare. What was wrong with his eyes? She may be able to break eye contact, but she was unable to ignore her heart’s reaction. Desire pranced through her senses. Still crazy about him, she’d missed his touch, and his zinging kisses. Her pulse ping-ponged, pounding in her ears.

  “You look different.” He lowered his hand and scowled. “But different in a good way.”

  “I’ve been on pins and needles waiting to hear from you. You didn’t tell me you were coming. I almost fainted to see you at the door.”

  “What’s so important for you to call me out to the prairie?” His voice always fed her nerve endings, spiking an electric field around her.

  Wait till you meet Oren Waverly.

  The men sounded just alike.

  But it was Rob who now filled the Waverly doorway.

  How could he still affect her like this? She soaked him in, reacquainting herself with the rush of resurrected feelings. He wasn’t Hollywood handsome. Separately, his features were mismatched, kind of unbalanced. But all together, she’d always approved of the package. Paisley blinked during closer inspection. Rob’s blue eyes had once matched the feathers of his prized love birds.

  “What’s going on with your eyes?” Lost in the sapphire depths, she now compared their color to that of the sky in transition to the black of night.

  His jaw relaxed and his lips parted, but he didn’t smile. He took life too seriously to smile much. “I wore colored contacts when we were together. I never let on because you often gushed about the color of my eyes.”

  She shook off the mesmerizing pull and dropped her gaze to notice new, tighter jeans. His midnight blue tee-shirt showed off the workouts he got by hefting heavy projects and handling tools.

  “I thought there’d be more traffic for a Saturday. Where is everybody? It’s too big to be a ghost town.”

  Paisley smiled. This i
s going to be so much fun.

  What would he do if she reached out and touched him? “You’ll never know how good it is to see you. You must have driven from Omaha. The Cornhuskers are playing in Lincoln where you’d have seen a red flood of humanity going to the football game.”

  “Are we going to talk in the doorway forever? You should remember I’m not into the Cornhuskers, or any other kind of college ball.”

  “Sorry. I’m really glad to see you. I forgot football isn’t your game. I’ve discovered it’s the topic of conversation from August to January around here, so you might have to get used to it.”

  “Sounds more like mania.”

  “Big Red football is a tradition in the state.”

  “I get all that. Would you please tell me why I’m here? And is it all right if I come in?”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

  “I heard that. I’ve got pizza and cold drinks right here,” Oren said from the kitchen. “Doubt either of you ate much earlier.”

  Paisley watched, delighted as a director of a reality show.

  Oren turned from the table where he’d placed the food. His arms dropped to his sides as though weighted. Good thing the food wasn’t in Oren’s hands. He would have let loose of anything he held, as sure as the shock caused his jaw to hit the floor.

  She grabbed her phone and tapped the video app, focusing from one hunky man to the other. Their main difference was defined by the way they were dressed, clothing that depicted their occupations. Oren typified a bank exec, dressed down today in long-sleeved, striped shirt with a red Husker tie and creased slacks. Rob’s tee-shirt exposed his muscular physique. At least his dark jeans were free of holes or paint.

  But their facial features drew Paisley’s attention. No one could doubt they were closely related. Right now, they both wore frowns, raised brows, and disbelief sagged their jaws. At the same time, they cleared their throats. Which one would speak first?

  Rob ran a hand through already messed-up hanks of hair that needed a trim, a familiar repeated gesture. He finally tore his gaze from Oren’s face and looked at Paisley. “Put that phone away, please. I need to sit.”

  How she had missed listening to his voice. Who would have imagined two such deep, raspy, and rough vocals? Not to mention two guys oozing magnetic, masculine appeal.

  But only one of these men thrilled her to the marrow.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth, sitting sounds like the thing to do.” At least Oren grinned. He entered the front room and sank onto the couch. His focus remained riveted on Rob.

  It was a rarity for Rob to crack even a small smile. His seriousness was one of the issues Paisley had pointed out as a major difference between them. He nodded his head and searched the room, dropped his duffle, and chose a winged chair.

  “Perfect timing, Oren.” Paisley smiled wide as she escaped to the kitchen for their late lunch.

  “I’d venture to say it’s clear we’re related. I’m Oren Waverly. We’re in the home where my father Mark lived as long as I can remember. I thought I’d bring Paisley lunch after she said she had a surprise. I never dreamt it was a visitor who looks like me. This is one lunch break I’ll never forget.”

  “Robin Paisley.” He paused and Paisley looked his way. Sure enough, he gestured toward her, and then shook Oren’s hand. “I can see by your face you think that’s funny.”

  “Not at all. More than a coincidence the lady in the kitchen is Paisley Robbins. According to my wife, that’s how the two of you met out in California. Your mail kept getting mixed up. I’d say God’s sense of humor was at play.”

  Paisley could now detect the difference in the men’s voices. Nora no doubt responded to the tinge of humor in Oren’s voice. But for some inexplicable reason, the rougher quality of Rob’s growl still managed to sprinkle tingles down Paisley’s spine.

  “Actually, it was special delivery a few summers after we were out of the dorm,” Rob clarified. “I ordered a pair of birds that ended up with Paisley instead of coming to my home. That’s weird when I think about it now. Why would I buy birds when I’ve gone through life named for a bird?”

  “I find nothing humorous about your names at all. They are what they are. I’m guessing some names make God smile. Besides, He was probably in charge, bringing you and Paisley together because of your names.”

  “I’ll never understand why He allowed me to grow up with a prissy handle just because my mom wanted it. Besides, I never knew my father’s name. First or last.” Bitterness painted Rob’s rasp.

  Paisley was amazed Rob admitted such a thing to a stranger. But he’s in shock.

  “I’d say that’s a topic of discussion for another day and time.” Oren gestured to the food. “We’ll try to eat a bite and then I’ll tell you the story of why Paisley contacted you.”

  Even if he mentally clung to the past rather than living with what today offered, from Paisley’s perspective, today opened up a life change for Rob.

  She prayed Oren’s influence would impact Rob’s life where she had failed.

  *

  Rob couldn’t be more dumbfounded over Oren Waverly’s appearance than if he’d been clobbered by a twenty-ounce hammer. It was as if he looked into a trick carnival mirror.

  He automatically nodded thanks when Paisley handed him a plate wafting Italian pizza spices and hot gooey cheese. Her fingers grazed his thigh as she curved a napkin so it wouldn’t fly off his leg. He ignored the swirl of heat her touch wrought, and sensed her attention.

  But he zeroed in on Oren. What was he saying?

  “…Mom’s name was Linda. I’m thirty-seven, a banker right over on Thirteenth Street. Nora and I fell in love the day we met at the local college. She went on to attend Wayne State and now she teaches in the school where Sara attends. Sara is our adorable second-grader, who wants to dress like a Disney star. As soon as we’re done, I’ll show you pictures on my phone.”

  Rob wanted to take a breath for the other man. They both raised cans of root beer at the same time. Mirror images. Oren flashed a grin. Rob blinked.

  Now he knew the definition of surreal. His mind threatened to float away to the ceiling. It was tough, and took a concerted effort to absorb what was going on. Robin Paisley in Norfolk, Nebraska, seated across from…who was this guy? His brother? His cousin? Even though he was younger, Oren’s black manicured hair was peppered with flecks of gray at the temples.

  And he was still talking. “Nora graduated and I got my business degree online while I worked at the bank. Too bad we’re eating pizza. I’d show you the pictures Paisley found in a drawer. They’ll have to wait a few more minutes. I’ll try to shut up since I’ve had time to absorb the obvious. Now I want to know all about you.”

  Rob crunched a bite of savory crust and guzzled his soda, washing the tasty pizza down. He set the paper plate next to the empty aluminum can. “Not much to tell. My mother’s name is Precious. She never answered any questions I had or gave one hint as to who my father was. She claimed it didn’t matter as long as we were together. She never told me where she grew up. I was born in a communal straggle on a small patch of farm ground not far from the Golden Gate Bridge. Paisley probably told you I’m into old stuff. Junk is a challenge for me to turn into a treasured belonging. Or I find something for fun and sell it for a tidy profit.”

  They finished eating.

  “Well, big brother. It’s time to show you what brought you to our fair state.” Oren was that convinced they were brothers? He didn’t appear bothered by such a possibility.

  Rob tried to ignore the prickle of excitement.

  Oren rose to his feet, handed his plate to Paisley, and opened his arms to Rob. “Welcome to the family.”

  Rob didn’t move.

  Paisley threw away trash in the kitchen and put the remainder of the pizza in the fridge.

  Hugging a stranger who could pass as his twin was way beyond his comfort zone. Rob was used to a handshake, fist bump, or
a fist to the upper arm when greeting guy friends. He managed to raise one arm and thumped Oren on the shoulder, more muscular than Rob first thought.

  “Right here is the evidence, Rob.” Paisley approached through the kitchen doorway and branded him with her fingers on his bicep when she handed him a photograph. “The first time Oren walked in, I about passed out. You can’t imagine…”

  Oh, yes, I can. Same thing happened to me.

  “…what I felt when I dug in the back of a drawer and pulled out this photograph. Just look at the people in this picture. Check out the man.”

  Rob was drawn to the old milk truck, but he studied the couple in the doorway. Root beer threatened to bubble from his stomach as it turned to bile. He was looking at a young version of his mother, standing with a man he guessed Oren was about to reveal as his—or possibly their—father.

  Evidently Rob hadn’t been worth this Waverly guy sticking around.

  Paisley turned the image over and exposed the writing on the back. Precious…his mother…and Mark Waverly… his father?

  Did all this mean the gaps he’d lived with his whole life were about to be filled?

  Rob willed away the buzzing in his ears to concentrate on what Oren said.

  “I didn’t grow up seeing my dad dressed as dapper as in the picture. Not often, anyway. He worked for a farmer when I was growing up, but my mother insisted we stay living here in town. I have more photographs at our house. When he was younger, Dad delivered milk. The company folded and he bought one of the older milk trucks to restore. By the time he was in his fifties, he wore glasses. He had a swaggering walk that turned into a stooped-shoulder shuffle the last few months he lived. Sorry.” Oren reached over and slapped a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “This is a lot to take in.”

  “No kidding.” How much of the narration would Rob recall later? For now, once the names had registered, he flipped over to the image. He stared into the dark stormy eyes of Mark Waverly. His father? For real?

  Oren prattled on. “After we buried my mom, Dad wore a ponytail. Toward the end, he couldn’t tie it back any longer and a couple months before he died, I took him for a haircut.”